


A Poison Tree

by admiralandrea



Category: NCIS: Los Angeles, Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Community: trope_bingo, Crossover, M/M, Wraith Feeding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-29 21:02:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20802929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/admiralandrea/pseuds/admiralandrea
Summary: What happens when Callen and Sam encounter a Wraith in the woods of California





	A Poison Tree

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Age Up/Age Regression square of my Trope Bingo card. No specific spoilers for any of the shows, except it's post-S5 for SGA, as Atlantis is on Earth. And I've not seen the later seasons of SG-1, so I've included whichever characters took my fancy, to suit my story needs. I have no plans to fill this out any more, but never say never, right?

Callen raced into the clearing and immediately saw his partner on the ground, Wraith hovering above him, hand poised on his chest. Callen screamed as he brought his gun to bear, firing hard and fast. The Wraith turned it’s head, long hair whipping and mouth opened in a snarl. 

Callen continued to scream as he emptied his gun into it. Sam was making awful noises on the ground, still trapped by the Wraith’s hand. Out of the corner of his eye, Callen could see that his partner was getting older by the second.

His gun jammed open on an empty clip, so Callen quickly ejected it and rammed the new one in place, firing again within seconds. He tried not to notice how much older Sam had gotten in just those few seconds. Instead, he concentrated on continuing to pour bullets into the Wraith, however hopeless it appeared to be.

Sam appeared to be scrabbling in the dirt, but then Callen saw his hand come up with a knife in it and he somehow managed to stab it into the arm of the Wraith. He slashed again, as Callen continued to fire steadily at it, until the Wraith finally pulled it’s hand from Sam. Then he ran forward, continuing to fire, as he saw fluids dripping from where Sam had been slashing at it.

Finally, finally, the Wraith dropped to the ground. Callen changed magazines again and stood over the Wraith, emptying this one into it as well, just to be sure. Then he threw the gun aside and flung himself to the ground, where Sam still lay, eyes closed.

Holding his breath, Callen reached out a shaky hand, feeling for a pulse at Sam’s neck. It was there, barely, a faint flutter under his touch. As he crouched over his partner’s body, wondering how the hell they got out of this, a bright flash of white light flashed over them and he felt dizzy for a moment.

When he blinked away the after-image from his eyes, Callen saw they were in a grey walled room. Seconds later, he was up and whirling round as the door banged open, hand gun pointing towards the people who were flooding the room.

“Whoa, steady, we’re the good guys!” the man at the front raised his hands up to show they were empty.

Callen recognized him a second later and his hand dropped to the side, watching as a gurney clattered into the room. A short woman barked out orders and as Callen continued to watch, several men in uniforms were lifting Sam onto the gurney. Seconds later, they were rushing back out the door, followed by the diminutive woman.

The man who had led the others into the room came up beside Callen, who had sagged back against the wall, shaking from adrenaline and terrified for Sam. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, fighting for control.

To his credit, Sheppard – Callen suddenly remembered his name – didn’t try and touch him, staying a short distance away, giving him space to breathe. After a minute, Callen forced everything aside into a mental box and turned to look at Sheppard.

“Let’s get you to the infirmary,” was all he said.

Callen pushed himself to his feet and followed Sheppard through grey corridors, until they reached a small, but noisy, infirmary. There were several people bustling around and a number of patients in beds around the room.

Callen did a visual search but couldn’t see his partner. “Where is he?” he asked nervously, fearing the worst, even though it had only been a few minutes.

“This way,” Sheppard led him off to the side and through another door to a smaller room, which had a strange box in one corner.

As Callen watched the same men who had hoisted his partner on to the gurney earlier were now lifting him into the strange box, supervised by the woman from earlier that was presumably the doctor.

“What the hell is that?” Callen demanded, pushing forward.

Sheppard grabbed hold of him and Callen struggled against him. “Callen!” Sheppard barked. “Stand down, this will heal him.”

Callen growled as he looked to Sheppard. “Explain,” he barked.

“It’s a Goa’uld sarcophagus,” Sheppard said, going on quickly at Callen’s blank look. “An alien device that can heal people, it can even revive them.”

Callen felt a surge of hope at the news and turned to look back at the device. “Really?” he asked. “He’ll be okay? Back to normal?” He turned to Sheppard again.

Sheppard nodded. “Don’t ask me how it works, don’t think anyone really knows, but it does the job.”

“How long?” Callen asked.

“A few hours probably,” Sheppard said with a shrug.

The doctor came over to them at that point. “Colonel Sheppard,” she said with a nod.

“Doctor Lam, this is Agent Hanna’s partner, Agent Callen,” Sheppard introduced them with a casual wave of the hand.

“He’ll really be okay?” Callen asked again anxiously.

She smiled at him. “Yes,” she assured him. “Now let’s go get you checked over as well.”

“I’m fine,” Callen told her impatiently. “I want to stay here.”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t work like that,” she said firmly and ushered them out the room, following the other men, who dispersed quickly.

Callen sighed, but followed her to the empty bed she indicated, hopping onto it as she brought over a trolley of instruments.

“I’ll wait outside for you,” Sheppard told him and Callen nodded as he walked away.

Callen watched Doctor Lam as she checked his vitals and answered her questions briefly. He was used to these types of checks after NCIS missions and he knew how to give the information needed to get him cleared and out of medical as quickly as possible. 

Just as Doctor Lam pronounced him free to go, Sheppard reappeared. “All done?” he looked expectant.

Callen nodded as he hopped back down from the bed. 

“Good, General Hammond has asked that you debrief him,” Sheppard told him.

Callen followed him out the door. “Sure,” he agreed, although he had no idea who General Hammond was, having barely met anyone other than Sheppard so far, in the rush to deal with the threat of the Wraith.

Sheppard led him through a maze of identical grey corridors, explaining how the colored lines and numbering on the walls worked. They finally arrived at an office at the top of a short staircase and Sheppard knocked briefly once before opening the door.

“General Hammond, this is Agent Callen,” he said and Callen followed him inside.

An older balding man rose from behind a desk and reached out to shake hands. Callen froze for a second, remembering the Wraith with it’s hand on Sam’s chest, but quickly recovered and shook briefly.

“A pleasure to meet you son,” the General told him. “Please have a seat.”

Callen took the indicated chair, while Sheppard remained by the door. “Thank you,” he said simply, feeling tiredness catch up to him as he sat down.

“I realize this is all a bit to get your head around and I apologize for that,” Hammond told him. “I can assure you that your partner, Agent Hanna, will recover thanks to the sarcophagus, although I know you won’t really believe that until you see for yourself.”

Callen looked at him. “I believe you,” he said with a nod. “I have no reason not to at this point. Everything else you’ve told us has been true and I can’t see why you would start lying now.”

“Thank you Agent Callen,” Hammond seemed relieved by that comment. “You and your partner rendered a great service to our country today with your actions and the sacrifice will not go unnoticed.” 

Callen just nodded, not really sure what to say to that.

“Now, I would be grateful if you would debrief with our Wraith experts, who are waiting next door in the conference room,” Hammond continued.

Callen nodded again. “Sure,” he agreed and rose to his feet once more, to follow the General through another door and into a larger room, with an oval table and a large metal shutter over what was obviously a window into another room.

Three people waited at the table; a white man tapped furiously at a laptop, a large mug of coffee and a half-empty carafe in front of him. A petite bronze skinned woman was next to him, with a large dreadlocked dark skinned man on her other side. They were talking quietly together, but looked up when Hammond led Callen and Sheppard into the room.

“Colonel Sheppard,” the woman said with a warm smile.

He smiled back. “Hey,” he said. “This is Agent Callen, he and his partner Agent Hanna are the ones who took out the Wraith in California.”

The woman’s face darkened at the mention of the alien creature. “How is Agent Hanna?” she asked, concern evident in her tone and expression.

“Dr Lam got him to the sarcophagus in time, so he’ll be fine,” Sheppard told her. He took a seat at one end of the table.

“Let me introduce you,” General Hammond said quickly, gesturing Callen to another seat, settling in the final one himself. He indicated each of the others in turn. “Dr McKay is our Wraith technology expert, Ambassador Teyla Emmagen is our cultural expert and Specialist Ronon Dex is our military expert. Colonel Sheppard leads their team.”

Callen nodded at each of them in turn, but didn’t say anything. McKay barely glanced up from his laptop and didn’t acknowledge the introduction at all.

“Please call me Teyla,” the woman invited with another warm smile.

“Callen is fine,” he told her in return.

The big man grunted. “Dex or Ronon,” he added quickly, at a swift prod from Teyla.

“Please tell us about what happened to you and Agent Hanna,” General Hammond invited.

Callen took a deep breath. “When we received the briefing that the Wraith was in our vicinity, we were in Soledad Canyon on an enquiry relating to an ongoing case. We were able to narrow the general area fairly quickly, thanks to some locals.”

He went on to describe how they’d searched for the Wraith and tracked it through woods. “Sam, Agent Hanna, was in front of me and came into a small clearing. The Wraith was nowhere to be seen at that point, according to what he said. Then it attacked out of nowhere.”

Callen stopped and took a deep breath, the memory of what had happened vivid in his mind’s eye. He took the bottle of water Sheppard passed him gratefully and drank half before continuing.

“It had Sam on the floor and immediately started to feed. I was only a few seconds behind Sam and I started to fire on the Wraith with my weapon at once. I emptied a whole magazine into it, but it made no difference. As I started to fire the second magazine, Sam was able to slash at it’s arm with his combat knife. I don’t know exactly what that did, but it stopped the Wraith and I fired the rest of that magazine and a third one into it to make sure it was dead.”

General Hammond cleared his throat. “Thank you Agent Callen,” he said gravely. He turned to the others sat at the table. “The Wraith body was retrieved by the Apollo after we rescued Agents Hanna and Callen. Do you wish to examine it before we have it destroyed?” 

Teyla shook her head. “There is nothing further to learn from them that we do not already know.”

Hammond nodded. “And do you have any other questions for Agent Callen?”

“I believe that we need not ask Agent Callen to relive the incident further,” that was Teyla again and Callen wondered vaguely at her precise phrasing and the lack of contractions.

“Very well then,” General Hammond said. “In that case, Agent Callen, thank you for your time. I’ll have someone escort you back to the mess if you’d like?”

Callen shook his head. “I’d rather go back to the infirmary to see Sam,” he said.

Hammond nodded. “I understand that, but you won’t be able to see him until the sarcophagus has finished it’s healing.”

“C’mon,” Sheppard stood up. “I’ll take you to the locker room, you can clean up and change and then we’ll go get coffee in the mess.”

Callen sighed, but acquiesced, knowing he couldn’t argue with these people who were basically strangers and knew nothing of his relationship with his partner.

*

They were standing at the food counter in the mess when a voice from behind them spoke out of the blue. “I recommend the apple pie.”

Sheppard jumped, but Callen didn’t even flinch, well used to Hetty Lang creeping up on people.

“Sir!” Sheppard turned to the speaker and Callen looked around as well.

“Sheppard.” It was an older grey haired man. “Introduce me to our guest.”

Sheppard nodded. “Of course sir,” he agreed. “General Jack O’Neill, this is Agent Callen of NCIS. Agent Callen, General O’Neill is the head of the base.”

O’Neill held out a hand. “You’re one of Hetty Lang’s vorony,” he observed.

Callen raised an eyebrow as he accepted the handshake, but didn’t dispute the description of himself as a raven. “Pleased to meet you General,” was all he said.

O’Neill reached past him to pluck a couple of dishes of pie from the counter and put them on his tray. “Ice cream please,” he told the server who was waiting patiently. 

“Yes sir,” the man said, reaching into a small freezer and coming back with two small tubs.

“Join us Sheppard,” O’Neill said as he added a carafe of coffee and two mugs to his tray, before moving off to a table in the corner, where a younger bespectacled man waited.

Callen accepted a mug of coffee because there was no tea on offer and took a sandwich, not really interested in eating, but knowing he needed to. Sheppard took coffee and a slice of pie as well, but asked for cream. Then they went over to the table where O’Neill waited.

“Dr Daniel Jackson,” the fourth man said to Callen.

Callen nodded. “Callen,” he said. Off Jackson’s raised eyebrow he added, “Just Callen.”

Jackson looked interested but didn’t pursue it. “Your partner is the one in the sarcophagus?” he asked.

Callen nodded again. “What can you tell me about it?” he asked.

“Not a lot,” O’Neill interjected before Jackson could do more than open his mouth.

Callen took a mouthful of coffee, looking between them. “Classified?” he asked.

“You got it,” O’Neill pointed his spoon at him in acknowledgement. “But don’t worry, Hanna will be fine. Lam will keep him for observation once he gets out, but that’s typical doctor caution.”

“Alright,” Callen conceded. “So how long are we here for?”

O’Neill shrugged carelessly. “At least another day,” he admitted. “Don’t worry, I’ve let Hetty know her lambs are safe.” 

Callen raised his eyebrows at that. “It sounds like there’s a story there,” he observed.

“Also classified,” O’Neill told him cheerfully.

Callen snorted. “I bet you’re a load of fun at parties,” he said.

“You have no idea,” O’Neill agreed. 

“So what can we talk about?” Callen asked, as he finally unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite.

O’Neill made a remark about football and he and Sheppard were soon deep in discussion. Callen felt his attention drift, thinking of the last time he and Sam had a day off and how they’d spent it at the beach.

A hand on his arm startled him and before he knew it, he had a grip on the other person and someone was shouting his name in surprise. Callen blinked and realized that he had Dr Jackson face down on the table.

“Shit!” He let the other man go and pushed back quickly, suddenly aware that there were several men around him but Sheppard and O’Neill were holding them back.

Callen rubbed at his face, angry with himself for his reaction. “I’m sorry Dr Jackson,” he said sincerely, holding his hands wide and open, to minimize the threat.

Jackson gave him a pained smile. “No problem,” he said. 

Callen winced when he saw the bruises that were already appearing on his neck.

“Sheppard will take you up top, so you can get some fresh air,” O’Neill’s comment got his attention and Callen nodded agreement.

The rest of the men backed away and Callen followed Sheppard out the mess hall, grateful that he didn’t say anything as they entered an elevator a short distance down the corridor.

They rode up a long way and Callen wondered just exactly where they were and how far underground. No one had said anything to him about that and he guessed it was just as classified as everything else that had happened in the last day or so.

Sheppard led him through a security checkpoint and then they were outside and Callen took a deep breath of reasonably fresh, cool, air. He sighed, feeling his muscles relax a little.

“Gets me the same,” Sheppard said and Callen glanced sideways at him. “Being so far underground,” he clarified.

“I’m not claustrophobic,” Callen told him. “I didn’t even know we were underground.”

Sheppard nodded and meandered along a path, Callen following behind. They came to a grouping of rocks in a small clearing and Callen winced a little at the reminder of where Sam had been attacked by the Wraith. He wandered around in a circle, before eventually settling on to one of the larger rocks, pulling his legs up to sit cross legged.

Crunching footsteps behind him alerted him to O’Neill’s arrival. He heard a quiet conversation between him and Sheppard, but wasn’t able to make out the words, then Sheppard’s receding footsteps, before O’Neill came up beside him.

“I’m very sorry about Dr Jackson,” Callen said before O’Neill could speak.

O’Neill’s shrug was visible from the corner of his eye. “He honestly is okay Callen, it’s not the first time that’s happened to him.”

“You?” Callen asked, still not turning his head.

“Me,” O’Neill confirmed. “We were on a mission somewhere and he reached out to wake me from a nightmare. That time he didn’t just have a hand on his throat, he had my knife at his neck.”

Callen winced, thinking it was as well he hadn’t been armed because he’d done that before as well.

“What do you need Callen?” O’Neill asked after a long period of silence.

Callen snorted. “For this day never to have happened.”

“Can’t help you there,” O’Neill admitted.

Callen sighed and slid to his feet. “Yeah, I guessed even that might be beyond your skills, whatever other weird shit you’ve got going on here.”

“I can do beer though,” O’Neill told him.

“Beer sounds good,” Callen agreed and turned to follow O’Neill back down the path. Anything to kill more time until he could see his partner.

*

He was surprised when O’Neill drove them not to a bar, but to a house instead. He followed the other man inside and watched while he set a small device down on the coffee table, flicking at it so that it glowed blue.

“Take a seat,” O’Neill indicated the couch and headed towards what Callen assumed was the kitchen.

He soon came back with two bottles in hand, passing one to Callen before settling into a leather recliner with a sigh. They both sipped in silence for a few minutes and Callen felt himself relaxing into the quiet.

“Are you going to tell me anything at all?” Callen finally broke the silence. “Or are we just going to be sent back to Los Angeles with our memories zapped like the movies?”

That made O’Neill laugh for a few minutes. “We don’t have memory zappers,” he eventually said. “Though they would come in handy at times.”

“I can imagine,” Callen said with a shudder, thinking again of the woods and the sight of Sam aged and near death.

O’Neill shot him a sympathetic look and Callen guessed he probably had plenty of his own experiences he’d like to forget too. 

“All you’ll get is a seventy page NDA to sign and the grateful thanks of a handful of bureaucrats and our organization,” O’Neill said apologetically.

Callen sighed. “I guess I can live with that,” he said. It was about what he’d expected, being a veteran when it came to secrecy and covert missions.

At that moment, O’Neill’s cellphone rang and he pulled it from a pocket. “Dr Lam,” he said. “What news?”

Callen watched him as he listened to the call, but O’Neill had an excellent poker face and his expression told him nothing.

After he ended the call, O’Neill turned to Callen. “You partner is awake and asking for you,” he said.

Callen felt relief flood through at that news and he nodded thanks to O’Neill. 

“Lam still wants to keep him for observation, because she’s cautious like that, but I’ll take you back to the mountain to see him.”

Callen put aside his beer bottle and got to his feet. “I’m ready,” he said.

O’Neill laughed at his eagerness, but followed suit, reaching to pick up the blue glowing thing off the table as he did so. He tossed it to Callen, who caught it with a frown.

“What’s this?” he asked, feeling a strange tickle in his brain as he studied the object.

“Interesting,”O’Neill said.

Callen looked up and saw he was being scrutinized by O’Neill. “Interesting?” he parroted.

“We’ll have to save that conversation for later,” O’Neill told him. “Let’s get going.”

Callen held out the object to him and O’Neill took it. A moment later, it went dark and O’Neill tucked it away in a pocket. Callen frowned as he followed him out the door, wondering what was going on but more concerned about getting back to Sam.

*

Once they got back to the Mountain – which Callen had realized was under NORAD in Colorado Springs, despite O’Neill’s reticence on the subject, he was escorted straight back to the infirmary and shown to a private room.

Sam was lying in the single bed in the room. “There’s no cameras in here,” was Lam’s parting comment as she closed the door behind him.

Callen nodded absently to acknowledge her as he looked at his partner, breathing deeply for what seemed like the first time in days as he absorbed the sight of Sam restored to health.

As he lingered by the door, Sam’s eyes opened and immediately focussed on him.

“G,” he said, voice full of affection.

Callen felt himself flush, feet stuck to the floor and tongue tied in the way he hadn’t been since he was a teenager.

“Come here,” Sam pulled one arm from under the bedding to beckon him forward.

Callen forced himself to move closer and take the offered hand. Sam tugged on it to bring him closer still and then guided him down to gently press their mouths together. Callen bit back a sob of relief, resting his head on Sam’s shoulder and feeling Sam’s hand coming to rest on the back of his head.

“Sh,” Sam said soothingly, “I’m okay.”

Callen shuddered with the force of his emotions, trying not to cry. He hated that he got this way, seeing it as a sign of weakness, even though Sam disagreed. After a while, he recovered enough to pull back from his partner, who drew him into another kiss.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Callen asked anxiously, dragging the chair behind him closer with one foot, so he didn’t have to relinquish his hold on Sam’s hand.

Sam smiled at him. “Good as new, the doctor said, though I don’t know how.”

“Some sort of alien technology,” Callen surmised.

Sam nodded. “What about you?”

“I’m fine,” Callen immediately said. 

“G,” Sam’s tone was full of warning, making him sigh.

“I didn’t get hurt Sam,” Callen told him. “They took good care of you and now you’re back to normal hopefully we can go home.”

Sam studied him closely and Callen made sure to hold his gaze, until Sam nodded, satisfied. A knock at the door had Callen trying to pull his hand away, but Sam refused to let go.

“Come in,” he called before Callen could do anything else.

The door opened to reveal Dr Lam. “Agent Hanna, I believe it’s time you got out of here and stopped cluttering up the infirmary.”

“Really?” Callen exchanged a relieved look with his partner at that news.

She nodded. “Just one more quick check of your vitals and you’re good to go,” she said. “Colonel Sheppard is bringing you something to wear, as we weren’t able to salvage your clothes.”

Sam frowned and sighed, but nodded acceptance. 

“I’ll wait outside,” Callen quickly left before anything else was said. 

Colonel Sheppard was in the main part of the infirmary holding a bundle of clothes. “Oh hey, these are for your partner,” he said as soon as he saw Callen, thrusting his armload out.

“Thanks,” Callen accepted the bundle. “Dr Lam’s just doing a last check before giving him the all clear,” he added.

“O’Neill’s letting you go home?” Sheppard asked.

Callen shrugged. “Far as I know,” he said. “Why have you heard different?” he added suspiciously.

“No!” Sheppard said hastily, raising his hands. “I’ve not heard anything.”

“Good,” Callen was relieved. He really wanted to get Sam back to L.A. “Do you know how we’re getting home?”

Sheppard shook his head. “I’ve really not heard anything,” he repeated.

Just then, someone called Sheppard’s name from across the room. “What is it?” he asked.

“Phone call for you,” the nurse held out a handset.

Sheppard frowned, but crossed to answer it. Dr Lam reappeared from Sam’s room at that moment.

“Ah Agent Callen, I see Colonel Sheppard brought the clothes for Agent Hanna,” she observed. “He’s ready to get dressed now, if you’d like to take them in for him. Then as far as I’m concerned, you’re good to go.”

“Thank you,” Callen told her sincerely, with his best smile.

She nodded and smiled back, then went across to where Sheppard was still talking on the phone. Callen took the opportunity to slip back into his partner’s room and hand over the clothes.

“You’re cleared,” he said, as he passed the bundle to Sam, who was now sitting on the edge of the bed.

Sam nodded. “Back to one hundred percent fitness and pure Sam Hanna,” he said with a smirk.

“Good!” Callen was fervent with relief. “We just need someone to arrange a flight home now.”

“Where are we anyway?” Sam asked.

Callen nodded, remembering his partner had been unconscious or in the infirmary for this whole experience so far. “Colorado Springs, under NORAD, best as I can tell,” he told Sam.

Sam frowned at that. “Why would the Air Force have a base under NORAD?” he asked.

“Not just Air Force,” Callen said, thinking about the other personnel he’d seen while he’d been waiting for Sam to get the hell better and wake up.

Sam raised a questioning eyebrow. “Civilians and a bit of an odd mix of them,” Callen told him. “Plus I saw Marines in the mess hall earlier too.”

That earned him both eyebrows raised, but the door opening interrupted them. “Agents, General O’Neill would like to see you one last time,” Sheppard informed them. “I’m to escort you to him.” 

The partners exchanged a look. Maybe now they’d get a few more answers, before being allowed to go home.

*

Rather than going back to the office or conference room Callen had seen before, Sheppard took them deeper into the complex, through a maze of corridors and ended up in a large room containing a weird looking vehicle of some kind. There was a ramp down at one end and a large view screen at the other end. Callen guessed the lack of wheels meant it could fly.

“What’s that thing?” Sam blurted out from beside him.

Sheppard gave it a fond smile. “That’s a ‘jumper,” he said.

“Jumper?” Sam parroted.

“Puddlejumper actually, he christened them.” That was Dr McKay, the technology expert Callen had been sort-of introduced to earlier.

“It’s what they are Rodney,” Sheppard protested. It sounded like an old argument.

McKay just shook his head, but his expression was fond. “Ronon and Teyla wanted to say hello,” he said to Sam, who gave him a blank look. “Over there,” he gestured to where the other two members of Sheppard’s team stood beside the ‘jumper.

Teyla came forward, but Callen’s attention was caught by the arrival of General O’Neill.

“Ah, good, you’re here. I thought you could ride back with Sheppard’s team. They’re going to San Francisco.”

“Yes sir,” Callen said rather blankly, not knowing why they would be going there but guessing he probably wouldn’t find out.

“Your partner’s looking a lot better,” O’Neill observed and Callen looked over to where he stood on the ramp of the ‘jumper with a smile and nod. “Why don’t you bring him over so I can say hi before you leave?”

Callen frowned, wondering why O’Neill didn’t just go over himself, but obediently went to collect Sam. When he got to the ‘jumper he could feel a weird humming sort of buzzing noise and as he walked onto the ramp, the noise intensified and the ‘jumper lit up around him.

“What the hell’s that?” he looked around in confusion. 

“A conversation we’ll have to have at some point soon,” O’Neill said from behind him. “But not just yet.”

Callen was confused, but just shrugged. “So we can still go home?” he asked.

“For now,” O’Neill nodded. “But we’ll be in touch via Hetty soon.”

Sam was looking just as confused but he was standing close to Callen, clearly threat assessing the situation. “This better not be trouble O’Neill,” he said, tone threatening and Callen saw that echo of the SEAL his partner had been.

O’Neill just grinned and shrugged. “No promises.” Then he clapped his hands together. “Now go on kids, time to go home. I’ll talk to you real soon.”

Sheppard and his team filed on board the ‘jumper, Sheppard and McKay taking the two front seats, while Ronon sat behind Sheppard. Teyla sat on a bench at the back and gestured to Sam and Callen to sit across from her. They both did so and O’Neill backed away with a wave.

The ramp closed up and Callen heard Sam take a deep breath. He pressed his thigh against his partner’s. “Look forward,” he said quietly.

Sam nodded and did just that, meaning he could see out the front window, which Callen knew should help his dislike of small spaces. Sheppard was talking to someone via radio and then the ‘jumper was moving upwards, but so smoothly that there was no feeling like a chopper. It was only the changing view outside that told Callen they were taking off.

Moments later, they could see blue sky through the front and Callen felt Sam relax a bit more beside him, allowing him to relax as well. He wondered how long it would take them to get back to Los Angeles in the ‘jumper, it was nothing like any craft he’d flown in before.

Sam beat him to the punch though. “How long to get us home?”

“A couple of hours,” Sheppard replied. “We can’t go too fast because of the risk of being spotted, even though we’re cloaked.”

“Cloaked?” Sam sounded eager at that and Callen groaned a little. He’d never really been a sci fi fan, although Sam thankfully wasn’t as bad as Eric.

He closed his eyes and leaned back against the bulkhead behind him, ignoring Sam who moved into the empty seat behind McKay and started asking more questions. Callen felt that tickle in the back of his brain get stronger, but it didn’t feel bad, if anything he felt more relaxed and he felt himself slide gratefully towards sleep.

*

Sam’s soft call of his name got his attention some time later and Callen blinked up at his partner, who was giving him a fond look.

“Nice nap?” he asked.

Callen felt himself flush. “Well, you know I always nod off when you start on about that geeky mathlete stuff,” he replied with a smirk.

Sam gave a long-suffering sigh. “Junior Math Olympian,” he retorted, just like he always did.

Callen shrugged and held the smirk a bit longer, just to annoy his partner that bit more. “We nearly there?”

“Landing in about ten minutes,” Sam told him, finally sitting down next to him again. “Sheppard said O’Neill arranged a landing site and told Hetty, so she could get someone to pick us up.” 

“Won’t they wonder where we came from?” Callen asked. “What with the invisible spaceship and everything.”

Sam shrugged. “I’m sure Hetty has it covered.”

“True,” Callen conceded. In fact, it was just as likely to be Hetty who came and met them herself.

*

When they cleared the small stand of trees the ‘jumper had parked behind, Callen grinned when he saw that Hetty was indeed waiting for them, leaning against the hood of the Aston Martin that he sometimes drove. Just seeing her relaxed him more than anyone other than Sam did.

“Hetty,” he said warmly.

She smiled at them, her tone just as warm as she spoke. “Mr Callen, Mr Hanna, good to have you home again. I trust you are well?”

Callen exchanged a look with his partner. “We are now,” he said.

“Good.” Hetty said no more, heading for the driver’s side of the car.

Callen glanced at his partner again. “You can take shotgun,” he said, knowing Sam would need the extra leg room.

Sam just nodded and they climbed into the car as well, none of them saying anything until they were on the road heading towards the city.

“Can we go to Dovecote?” Callen asked as Hetty reached the freeway.

He caught her glance in the rearview mirror. “Problems, Mr Callen?”

He shook his head. “We need to debrief and I’d feel more secure there.”

“Very well then, Dovecote it is,” she agreed and turned the car in the direction of Hollywood, allowing Callen to relax further. He closed his eyes and let the hum of the car engine and the presence of his family settle in. He didn’t know what was coming with General O’Neill’s security clearance and NDA, but trusted that Hetty would guide him as she always had and with his partner at his back, anything could be overcome.


End file.
